


Asylum (SEASON ONE, EPISODE TEN)

by ackles_ass_equation



Series: Superghetto [11]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon, Episode: s01e10 Asylum, script
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-06-07 14:58:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6810118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ackles_ass_equation/pseuds/ackles_ass_equation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sam n' Dean rewind a mysterious asylum dat has a history wit abuse, a evil force inside causes Sam ta lose his sanitizzle n' turn on his brother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. NOW

ROOSEVELT ASYLUM. ROCKFORD, ILLINOIS. 

 _INTERIOR.  
_ A deserted building. Graffiti n' rubbish everywhere, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. Torch light moves along tha walls, a cold-ass lil chain across a thugged-out door is broken.

 _EXTERIOR.  
_ A five-o hoopty pulls up. Two cops strutt up ta chain link fence surroundin tha building.

 **COP 1  
** Can't keep lil playas outta dis place.

 **COP 2  
** What tha fuck iz it, anyway?

 **COP 1  
** I forgot son! Yo ass aint a local. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack. Yo ass don't give a fuck tha legend.

 **COP 2  
** Legend?

 **COP 1  
** Every townz gots itz stories, right, biatch? Ours is Roosevelt Asylum. They say itz hustled wit tha pimpz of tha patients, n' you can put dat on yo' toast. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Spend tha night, tha spirits will drive you insane.

 _INTERIOR  
_ Cops enta wit flashlights.

 **COP 1  
** Hello, biatch? Popo Officers...Po-lice Officers!

They peep tha fucked up chain on tha floor.

 **COP 1  
** Yo ass spittin some lyrics ta me these lil playas brought bolt-cutters, biatch? C'mon. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Letz split up.

 **COP 2  
** Right.

.........................

 **COP 2  
** (now alone) Hello, biatch? Hello?

........................

Camera switches between cops wanderin bout ridin' solo.

 **COP 1  
** (wandaz tha fuck into another room. Expression chizzles) Alright, c'mon out.

Flashlight reveals three lil playas chillin up in tha dark.

.......................

COP 2’s flashlight goes up n' da perved-out muthafucka shakes dat shit.

A door creaks open, POV from tha doorway, lookin at cop yo. Dude slowly turns ta peep tha door.

.....................

 _EXTERIOR  
_ COP 1 watches a cold-ass lil hoopty drive off then reaches fo' his bangin radio.

 **COP 1  
** Kelly, you copy?

COP 2 appears suddenly behind his muthafuckin ass.

 **Cop 1  
** (jumping) Jeez! Where tha hell you been?

 **COP 2  
** In there...

 **COP 1  
** What was it, biatch? See anything?

 **COP 2  
** Huh. No.

They return ta tha five-o car.

 **COP 1  
** (into hoopty radio) This is patrol one four. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. We is clear n' returnin ta station.

 **VOICE ON RADIO  
** Roger.

COP 2’s nozzle starts ta bleed. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Dude wipes it slowly.

.........................

 _INTERIOR  
_ COP 2 entas bedroom fo' realz. A biatch is readin up in bed. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

 **WOMAN  
** Hey.

COP 2 begins linin up gun, keys, etc, on a cold-ass lil chest of drawers.

 **WOMAN  
** So, what, biatch? Yo ass is still not poppin' off ta me son, biatch? Walt son! I holla'd I was sorry bout before- how tha fuck nuff times do I gotta say it?

COP 2 picks up gun.

........................

EXTERIOR- VIEW OF WINDOW

Yo, soundz of gunshot fo' realz. A brief pause, then another gunshot.


	2. ACT ONE

INTERIOR MOTEL ROOM

 **SAM  
** (on phone) Fuck dat shit, Dad was up in California last our crazy asses heard from his muthafuckin ass. Us playas just thought...he comes ta you fo' 'munitions....maybe you've peeped his ass up in tha last few weeks. Just, call our asses if you hear anything.

 **VOICE ON PHONE  
** ’kay.

 **SAM  
** Thanks.

 **VOICE  
** Yo ass bet.

 **DEAN  
** Caleb aint heard from him?

 **SAM  
** Nope fo' realz. And neither has Jefferson or Pastor Jim. What bout tha journal, biatch? Anythang leadz up in there?

 **DEAN  
** Fuck dat shit, same as last time I looked. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Nothang I can make out.... I gots a straight-up boner fo' tha muthafucka yo, but I swear, da thug writes like friggin' Yoda.

 **SAM  
** Yo ass know, maybe we should call tha Feds. File a missin person’s.

 **DEAN  
** We've talked bout all dis bullshit. Dad'd be pissed if we put tha Fedz on his cold-ass tail.

 **SAM  
** I couldn't give a fuckin shiznit no mo'. 

Cellphone rings. DEAN crosses tha room.

 **SAM  
** Afta all dat happened back up in Kansas, I mean...he should've been there, Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Yo ass holla'd so yo ass. Yo ass tried ta booty-call his ass and...nothing.

 **DEAN  
** I know! (Dude rummages all up in his fuckin lil' duffel) Where tha hell is mah cellphone?

 **SAM  
** Yo ass know, his schmoooove ass could be dead fo' all we know.

 **DEAN  
** Don't say dat son! Dat punk not dead hommie! Dat punk- he's...

 **SAM  
** Dat punk what, biatch? Dat punk hiding, biatch? Dat punk  _busy_?

DEAN findz n' flicks opens tha cellphone.

Yo, blasted of Cellphone: Message  
From: Unavailable Subject: Message: 42, -89  
9:52  
BACK REPLY

 **DEAN  
** (quietly) Huh. I don't believe dat shit.

 **SAM  
** What?

 **DEAN  
** It's, uh....It aint nuthin but a text message. It aint nuthin but coordinates.

.............................

DEAN typin on laptop.

 **SAM  
** Yo ass be thinkin Dad was textin us?

 **DEAN  
** Dat punk given our asses coordinates before.

 **SAM  
** Da playa can barely work a  _toaster_ , Dean.

 **DEAN  
** Sam, itz phat news muthafucka! It means he aiiight, or kickin it at least.

 **SAM  
** Well, was there a number on tha calla ID?

 **DEAN  
** Nah, it holla'd 'unknown'.

 **SAM  
** Well, where do tha coordinates point?

 **DEAN  
** Thatz tha bangin-ass part. Rockford, Illinois.

 **SAM  
** Ok, n' thatz bangin-ass how?

 **DEAN  
** I checked tha local Rockford paper n' shit. Take a peep all dis bullshit.

 **DEAN  
** This cop, Walta Kelly, comes home from his shift, blasts his hoe, then puts tha glock up in his crazy-ass grill, blows his domes up fo' realz. And earlier dat night, Kelly n' his thugged-out lil' partner responded ta a cold-ass lil call all up in tha Roosevelt Asylum.

 **SAM  
** Okay, I aint following. What has dis gotta do wit us?

 **DEAN  
** Dad earmarked tha same asylum up in tha journal. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack. Let’s see...

 **DEAN  
** Here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Seven unconfirmed sightings, two dirtnaps- till last week at least. I be thinkin dis is where da thug wants our asses ta bounce tha fuck out.

 **SAM  
** (snorts) This be a thang... Dad wants our asses ta work a thang.

 **DEAN  
** Well, maybe we'll hook up wit him, biatch? Maybe tha pimpin' muthafucka there?

 **SAM  
** Maybe he not, biatch? I mean, his schmoooove ass could be bustin our asses there, by ourselves, ta hunt dis thang.

 **DEAN  
** Dum diddy-dum, here I come biaaatch! Who tha fuck cares muthafucka! If da thug wants our asses there, itz phat enough fo' me biaaatch! 

 **SAM  
** This don't strike you as weird, biatch? Da texting, biatch? Da coordinates?

 **DEAN  
** Sam! Dadz tellin' our asses ta go somewhere, we  _goin'_.

SAM cook up a funky-ass biiiatchface n' sighs.

.....................

Cruisin Impala shot.

......................

 _INTERIOR. BAR  
_ COP 1 sits all up in tha bar. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. 

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass is Daniel Gunderson. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Yo ass be a cold-ass lil cop, right?

 **GUNDERSON  
** Yeah.

 **DEAN  
** Huh. I be uh, Nigel Tufnel, Da Chicago Tribune. Mind if I ask you a cold-ass lil couple thangs, bout yo' partner?

 **GUNDERSON  
** Yeah, I do. I be just tryin' ta git a funky-ass brew here.

 **DEAN  
** Thatz all gravy, I swear it won't take dat long. I just wanna git tha rap up in yo' lyrics.

 **GUNDERSON  
** A week ago, mah partner was chillin up in dat chair. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Now da ruffneck dead as fuckin fried chicken. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Yo ass gonna ambush me  _here_?

 **DEAN  
** Sorry. But I need ta know what tha fuck happened.

SAM pushes DEAN aside roughly.

 **SAM  
** Yo dawg, why don't you leave tha skanky muthafucka alone biaaatch! Da manz a fool! Why dontcha show a lil respect playa!

DEAN pauses, staring, then strutts off.

 **GUNDERSON  
** Yo ass didn't havta do all dis bullshit.

 **SAM  
** Yeah, course I done did. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! That muthafuckaz a straight-up jerk. Let me loot you a funky-ass brew, huh, biatch? (looks at barman) Two?

 **GUNDERSON  
** Thanks.

\------

SAM strutts outta tha bar.

 **DEAN  
** (sittin on Impala) Shoved mah crazy ass kinda hard up in there, dawg boy.

 **SAM  
** I had ta push it, didn't I, biatch? It aint nuthin but method acting.

 **DEAN  
** Huh?

 **SAM  
** Never mind.

 **DEAN  
** What'd you smoke up from Gunderson?

 **SAM  
** So, Walta Kelly was a phat cop yo. Head of his class, even-keeled, dat schmoooove muthafucka had a funky-ass bright future ahead of his muthafuckin ass.

 **DEAN  
** What bout at home?

 **SAM  
** Dude n' his hoe had all dem fights, like dem hoes yo, but da thug was mostly smooth sailing. They was even poppin' off bout havin kids.

 **DEAN  
** Alright, so either Kelly had some deep-seated wild-ass waitin ta bust out, or suttin' else done did it ta his muthafuckin ass.

 **SAM  
** Right.

 **DEAN  
** What'd Gunderson rap bout tha asylum?

 **SAM  
** A lot.

...............................

 _EXTERIOR  
_ SAM n' DEAN jump over tha tall chain linked fence all up in tha asylum n' enter.

...............................

_INTERIOR_

**SAM  
** So apparently tha cops chased tha lil playas here....into tha downtown wing.

SAM indicates a sign over one door.

 **DEAN  
** Downtown wing, huh, biatch? Wait a second (Dude flips all up in Johnz journal.) 1972. Three lil playas broke tha fuck into tha downtown wing, only one survived. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Way tha pimpin' muthafucka drops some lyrics ta it, one of his wild lil' playaz went nuts n' started lightin up tha place. 

 **SAM  
** So whateverz goin on, tha downtown win is tha ass of dat shit.

 **DEAN  
** But if tha lil playas is spelunkin tha asylum, why aren't there a ton mo' dirtnaps?

 **SAM  
** (lookin around. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Dude notes tha fucked up chain). Looks like tha doors is probably chained. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Could've been chained up fo' years.

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, ta keep playas out. Or ta keep suttin' in.

They peep each other, then SAM slowly pushes tha door open.

.......................

SAM n' DEAN strutt down a hallway. 

 **DEAN  
** Let me know if you peep any dead people, Haley Joel.

 **SAM  
** Dude, enough.

 **DEAN  
** I be straight-up n shit. Yo ass gotta be careful, all right, biatch? Ghosts is attracted ta dat whole ESP thang you gots goin on.

 **SAM  
** I holla'd at you, it aint ESP! I just have strange vibes sometimes. Weird dreams.

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, whatever n' shit. Don't ask, don't tell.

 **SAM  
** Yo ass git any readin on dat thang or not?

 **DEAN  
** Nope. Of course, it don't mean no onez home. 

 **SAM  
** Spirits can't step tha fuck up durin certain minutez of tha day. It make me wanna hollar playa! 

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, tha freaks come up at night.

 **SAM  
** Yeah.

 **DEAN  
** (deadpan) Yo Sam, whoz ass do you be thinkin is tha hotta psycho: Patricia Arquette, Jizzifer Ludd Hewitt, or yo slick ass?

SAM pushes DEAN, whoz ass laughs.

......................

INTERIOR fo' realz. Another room. Da thugs look around.

 **DEAN  
** (whistles) Man. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Electro-shock. Lobotomies. Put ya muthafuckin choppers up if ya feel dis! They did some twisted shiznit ta these people. Kinda like mah playa Jack up in Cuckooz Nest. (makes wild-ass eyes n' grins at SAM)

SAM ignores his ass n' DEANz smile drops. They look round some more.

 **DEAN  
** So. Whaddaya think, biatch? Ghosts possessin people?

 **SAM  
** Maybe. Or maybe itz mo' like Amityville, or tha Smurl hunting.

 **DEAN  
** Spirits rollin dem insane. Kinda like mah playa Jack up in Da Shining. (grins)

 **SAM  
** Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. (DEAN looks at him) When is we goin ta rap bout it?

 **DEAN  
** Talk bout what?

 **SAM  
** Bout tha fact Dadz not here.

 **DEAN  
** Oh. I peep yo. How tha fuck ’bout...never.

 **SAM  
** I be bein serious, man. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch yo. Dude busted our asses here...

 **DEAN  
** So be I, Sam. Look, da perved-out muthafucka busted our asses here, he obviously wants our asses here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. We bout ta pick up tha search later.

 **SAM  
** It don't matta what tha fuck da thug wants.

 **DEAN  
** See. That attitude, biatch? Right there, biatch? That is why I always git tha extra cookie.

 **SAM  
** Dad could be up in shit, we should be lookin fo' his muthafuckin ass. Us dudes deserve some lyrics, Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. I mean, dis is our crew we poppin' off about.

 **DEAN  
** I KNOW that, Sam yo, but he given our asses a order n' shit. 

 **SAM  
** So what, we gotta always follow Dadz orders?

 **DEAN  
** Of course our phat asses do. 

SAM gives DEAN a gangbangin' frustrated face. DEAN stares at his ass then turns away, endin tha conversation.

 **DEAN  
** (pokin round n' pickin up a sign) 'Sanford Ellicott'...Yo ass know what tha fuck we gotta do. We gotta smoke up mo' bout tha downtown wing. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. See if suttin' happened here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. 

DEAN strutts away, leavin tha sign wit SAM, whoz ass stares down at it wit a funky-ass biiiatchface.

..........................

_INTERIOR fo' realz. A WAITING ROOM._

SAM sits on couch flickin all up in a magazine fo' realz. A playa comes ta tha open door. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Da sign on tha door readz 'Dr Jizzy Ellicott, Clinical Psychiatry'. 

 **ELLICOTT  
** Sam Winchester?

 **SAM  
** Thatz mah dirty ass.

 **ELLICOTT  
** Come on in.

They move tha fuck into tha inner room. 

 **SAM  
** Thanks again n' again n' again fo' seein me last minute.

 **SAM  
** (lookin round tha room). Dr...Ellicott. Ellicott, dat name. Wasn’t there a...a Dr. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Sanford Ellicott, biatch? Yeah, da thug was a cold-ass lil chizzle psychiatrist somewhere.

 **ELLICOTT  
** My fuckin daddy was chizzle of staff all up in tha oldschool Roosevelt Asylum yo. How tha fuck did you know, biatch? 

 **SAM  
** Ah. Well, I be sorta...a local history buff. Yo, wasn't there, a incident or something, biatch? In tha hospitizzle, I guess. In tha downtown wing, right?

 **ELLICOTT  
** We on yo' dollar, Sam. Our thugged-out asses here ta rap bout you, biatch.

 **SAM  
** Oh, aiiight. Yeah, yeah. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Sure.

 **ELLICOTT  
** So yo. Howz thangs?

 **SAM  
** Ah, thangs is good, doctor. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. 

 **ELLICOTT  
** Good. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I be fly as a gangbangin' falcon, soarin all up in tha sky dawwwwg! Whatcha been bustin, biatch? 

 **SAM  
** Ahh, same old. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I just been on a... on a road trip wit mah brother.

 **ELLICOTT  
** Was dat fun?

 **SAM  
** (long pause) Loads. Umm. Yo ass know, we...ahh...we...met...a shitload of ...interestin people. Did a shitload of ...ah...interestin thangs...ahhh. Yo ass know, biatch? What was it exactly dat happened up in tha downtown wing, biatch? I forget...

 **ELLICOTT  
** Look, if you a local history buff, you know all bout tha Roosevelt riot. 

 **SAM  
** Da riot. Well, no. I know. I be just curious. 

 **ELLICOTT  
** Sam. Letz cut tha bull, shall we. Yo ass is gittin tha fuck aaway from tha subject.

 **SAM  
** What subject?

 **ELLICOTT  
** Yo ass fo'sho. Now I be bout ta make you a thugged-out deal. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack. I be bout ta rap all bout tha Roosevelt riot, if you tell me suttin' real bout yo ass. Like, uh, dis brutha you road trippin wit yo. How tha fuck do you feel bout him, biatch? 

SAM looks a lil freaked out. 

.....................

_EXTERIOR._

DEAN leans against glass windows next ta tha door, lookin bored. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

SAM strutts past. DEAN catches up n' matches his thugged-out lil' pace.

 **DEAN  
** Dude biaaatch! Yo ass was up in there forever n' shit. What tha hell was you poppin' off about?

 **SAM  
** Just tha hospitizzle, you know. 

 **DEAN  
** And...?

 **SAM  
** And tha downtown wing, biatch? It aint nuthin but where tha housed tha straight-up hard cases. Da psychotics, tha criminally insane. 

 **DEAN  
** Soundz cozy.

 **SAM  
** Yeah fo' realz. And one night up in '64, they rioted. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! This type'a shiznit happens all tha time fo' realz. Attacked staff fo' realz. Attacked each other n' shit. 

 **DEAN  
** So tha patients took over tha asylum?

 **SAM  
** Apparently.

 **DEAN  
** Any dirtnaps?

 **SAM  
** Some patients, some staff. I guess dat shiznit was pretty gory. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Some of tha bodies was never even recovered, includin our chizzle of staff, Ellicott. 

 **DEAN  
** Whaddaya mean, never recovered?

 **SAM  
** Cops scoured every last muthafuckin inch of tha place but I guess tha patients must've...stuffed tha bodies somewhere hidden.

 **DEAN  
** Thatz grim.

 **SAM  
** Yeah. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So, they transfered all tha remainin patients n' closed tha hospitizzle down.

 **DEAN  
** So, ta sum it up, we've gots a funky-ass bunch of violent dirtnaps n' a funky-ass bunch of unrecovered bodies. Put ya muthafuckin choppers up if ya feel dis! 

 **SAM  
** And a funky-ass bunch of mad salty spirits.

 **DEAN  
** Dope times. Letz hit up tha hospitizzle tonight.


	3. ACT TWO

_INTERIOR fo' realz. ASYLUM_

Torchlight approaches behind a thugged-out door yo. Headz is seen. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Da door creaks open. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch fo' realz. A lil' playa n' biatch, universitizzle aged, enter n' shit. 

 **GUY  
** Peep dis up son! Creepy...yet terrifying.

 **GIRL  
** I thought we was goin ta a porno.

 **GUY  
** This is mo' betta n' shit. It aint nuthin but like we up in a porno.

 **GIRL  
** (huffing) I can't believe you call dis a thugged-out date.

 **GUY  
** C'mon, it'll be fun. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Letz look around. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! C'mon!

They move further along. 

 **GUY  
** (jumpin n' swingin around) Whatz that?

Girl swings around. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Guy pokes her n' she jumps, then hits his muthafuckin ass yo. Dude laughs. 

 **GUY  
** Yo look. C'mon, letz check it out.

 **GIRL  
** I...don't want to. Letz just go. 

 **GUY  
** C'mon!

They stare at each other.

 **GUY  
** Okay. Okay, you can wait here.

 **GIRL  
** W- Gavin. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. No.

 **GAVIN  
** I be just gonna be a minute. Nothingz gonna git ya, I promise.

GAVIN moves tha fuck into tha next room ridin' solo. Da door slams behind his muthafuckin ass yo. Dude looks at it, grins, n' keeps going. In tha doorway a funky-ass biatch figure wit long afro is peeped up in shadow just as GAVINz flashlight fails yo. Dude shakes dat shit.

 **GAVIN  
** Damn dat shit.

 **GAVIN  
** (Dude turns around) Sweetie. Couldn't take it, huh?

 **FEMALE  
** (comin closer n' puttin her handz either side of his wild lil' face) Hey.

They start makin out. 

 **GIRL  
** (callin up in tha distance) Gavin, biatch? Gavin, where is yo slick ass??

Gavin pulls back n' freaks out.   
  
................

_INTERIOR fo' realz. ASYLUM_

Back all up in tha entrance. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM pushes open tha door, DEAN beside his muthafuckin ass.

SAM is holdin a vizzle camera n' flashlight, DEAN a EMF meter n' shit. 

 **SAM  
** Gettin readings?

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, big-ass time.

 **SAM  
** This place is orbin like crazy.

 **DEAN  
** Probably multiple spirits up n' about.

 **SAM  
** And if these uncovered bodies is causin tha hustlin...

 **DEAN  
** We gotta find ’em n' burn ’em. Just be careful though cause I gots dem finger-lickin' chickens wit tha siz-auce. Da only thang dat make me mo' straight-up trippin than a pissed off spirit, n' I aint talkin bout no muthafuckin Jack Daniels neither... is tha pissed off spirit of a psycho killer.

They keep strutting. Da camera pans across ta peep a cold-ass lil crazed-lookin bald playa strapped tha fuck into a straitjacket up in tha corner n' shit. 

.............................

  
SAM n' DEAN keep lookin n' move tha fuck into separate rooms fo' realz. Afta a minute SAM sees a oldschool biatch all up in tha vizzle lens; white haired, one eye bloody n' hangin out, movin toward his muthafuckin ass. 

 **SAM  
** Dean, biatch? Dean!! (DEAN runs tha fuck into tha room, rummagin up in his bag all up in tha same time) Shotgun! 

 **DEAN  
** (shouting) Sam, git down!

SAM throws his dirty ass on tha ground. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! DEAN blasts tha biatch. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch disintegrates. 

They both look around, gasping. 

 **SAM  
** That was weird.

 **DEAN  
** Yeah. Yo ass is spittin some lyrics ta mah dirty ass.

DEAN starts movin outta tha room. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM bigs up.

 **SAM  
** Fuck dat shit, Dean, I mean dat shiznit was weird dat her dope ass didn't battle mah dirty ass.

 **DEAN  
** Looked pretty aggro from where I was standing.

 **SAM  
** Bitch didn't hurt mah dirty ass. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch didn't even try dawwwwg! So if her dope ass didn't wanna hurt me then what tha fuck did dat biiiiatch want?

A noise be reppin a room they is passing. DEAN immediately raises his shotgun n' SAM flicks on tha torch n' shines it tha fuck into tha room. They approach a metal bed covered up in a ragged sheet, on its side. They peep tha top of a funky-ass blonde head behind dat shit. They brace theyselves. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM reaches up n' tips tha bed over n' shit. Da hoe from earlier is crouched facin tha corner n' shit. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch spins around, terrified n' gasping.

 **DEAN  
** It aint nuthin but aiiiight, our asses aint goin ta hurt you, biatch. It aint nuthin but all gravy. Whatz yo' name?

 **GIRL  
** Katherine. Kat.

 **DEAN  
** Okay. I be Dean, dis is Sam.

 **SAM  
** What is you bustin here!?

 **KAT  
** Um. My fuckin boyfriend, Gavin. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 

 **DEAN  
** Is dat schmoooove muthafucka here?

 **KAT  
** Somewhere, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho yo. Dude thought it would be fun, try n' peep some pimps.. n' you KNOWS dat shiznit was all just...you know. Pretend yo, but it ain't no stoppin cause I be still poppin'. Ya Mom shoulda told ya, I peeped thangs. I heard Gavin scream and... 

 **DEAN  
** Alright. Kat, biatch? Come on. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Samz gunna git you outta here n' then we gunna find yo' boyfriend.

 **KAT  
** No! No. I aint goin ta leave without Gavin. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. I be comin wit you, biatch.

 **DEAN  
** It aint nuthin but no joke round here, aiiight. It aint nuthin but dangerous. 

 **KAT  
** Thatz why I gotta find his muthafuckin ass.

DEAN n' SAM peep each other n' shit. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM shrugs.

 **DEAN  
** Alright, I guess we gunna split up then. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Letz go.

...............

 **SAM  
** (wanderin around) Gavin.... Gavin?

.................

 **KAT  
** (with DEAN, viewed all up in a gangbangin' finger-lickin' dirty window) Gavin... Gavin?

 **DEAN  
** I gots a question fo' ya. You've peeped a shitload of horror pornos, yeah?

 **KAT  
** I guess so. 

 **DEAN  
** (turnin ta grill her) Do me a gangbangin' favor. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Next time you peep one, biatch? Pay attention. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. When one of mah thugs say a place is hustled...don't go in!

As they move on, a thugged-out dark shape moves across tha inside of tha window.  
  
..............

 **SAM  
** (sees Gavin on tha ground unconscious n' crouches ta shake his muthafuckin ass. Gavin wakes n' freaks out) Yo, Gavin. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. It aint nuthin but all gravy, I be here ta help.

 **GAVIN  
** Dum diddy-dum, here I come biaaatch! Who tha fuck is yo slick ass?

 **SAM  
** Hoes call me Sam. Uh, we found yo' hoe yo, but it ain't no stoppin cause I be still poppin'. 

 **GAVIN  
** Kat, biatch? (gettin up) Is she aiiiight?

 **SAM  
** Yeah. Dat hoe worried bout you, biatch. Is you aiiight?

 **GAVIN  
** I was hustlin. I be thinkin I fell.

 **SAM  
** Yo ass was hustlin from what?

 **GAVIN  
** There was...there was dis hoe yo. Her face. Dat shiznit was all messed up.

 **SAM  
** Okay listen, did dis girl... did dat dunkadelic hoe try n' hurt yo slick ass?

 **GAVIN  
** What, biatch? Fuck dat shit, she...uh...

 **SAM  
** Bitch what?

 **GAVIN  
** She...kissed mah dirty ass.

 **SAM  
** Uh...um...but...but her dope ass didn't hurt you, physically?

 **GAVIN  
** Dude biaaatch! Biatch busted mah dirty ass. I be scarred fo' game biaatch!

 **SAM  
** Well, trust me, it could done been worse. Now do you remember anythang else, biatch? 

 **GAVIN  
** Bitch uh...actually, dat dunkadelic hoe tried ta whisper suttin' up in mah ear.

 **SAM  
** What?

 **GAVIN**  
I don't give a gangbangin' fuck. I ran like hell.  
  
................

DEAN n' KAT up in another hallway, DEAN leadin tha way. Da flashlight fades. 

 **DEAN  
** (bobbin tha flashlight) Yo ass lil hustla of a funky-ass biiiatch. (reachin tha fuck into his thugged-out lil' pocket) It aint nuthin but aiiiight, I gots a lighter n' shit. 

KAT turns ta look behind dem wild-ass muthafuckas.

 **KAT  
** Ow. Yo ass is hurtin mah arm.

 **DEAN  
** What is you poppin' off about?

They turn ta peep each other, realize they too far apart ta be touching, n' look down. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch fo' realz. A disembodied hand is clutchin KATz arm. 

KAT is dragged tha fuck into a room, tha metal door slammin behind her n' shit. DEAN races ta it n' strugglez ta pull it open, KAT bangs on it from tha inside but it don't budge. 


	4. ACT THREE

_INTERIOR fo' realz. ASYLUM_

DEAN continues ta struggle wit tha door. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. 

 **KAT  
** Lemme up son! Please biaaatch! 

 **DEAN  
** Kat son! Hang on!

DEAN smashes all up in tha door wit a metal pipe, then tries ta jimmy it open. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Inside, KAT slowly backs up, lookin all up in tha door. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Someone standz behind her, breathang heavily. When KAT spins round there is no one there, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. DEAN continues bangin on tha door. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. KAT turns again n' again n' again n' sees tha pimp. Tall, heavyset, long dark oily hair, his wild lil' grill a funky-ass bloody mess. KAT screams n' backs up ta tha door...and backs tha fuck into his muthafuckin ass. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch screams again. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 

 **SAM  
** (runnin down hall ta DEAN, followed by GAVIN) Whatz goin on?

 **DEAN  
** Dat hoe inside wit one of dem wild-ass muthafuckas.

 **KAT  
** (screams) Help me!!

 **GAVIN  
** Kat playa!

 **KAT  
** (slidin down against tha door as tha pimp approaches) Git me outta here biaatch!

 **SAM  
** Kat, it aint goin ta hurt you, biatch. Listen ta mah dirty ass. You've gots ta grill dat shit. You've gots ta quit trippin' out.

 **DEAN  
** (turnin ta SAM, astonished) Dat hoe gotta what?! 

 **KAT  
** (shouting) I gotta what?!

 **SAM  
** These spirits, they not tryin ta hurt us, they tryin ta rap. Yo ass gotta grill dat shit. Yo ass gotta dig dat shit.

 **KAT  
** Yo ass grill dat shiznit son!

 **SAM  
** No! It aint nuthin but tha only way ta git outta there, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. 

 **KAT  
** No!

 **SAM  
** Look at it, come on. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Yo ass can do dat shit.

KAT, takin deep breaths, turns ta grill tha pimp yo. Dude leans up in close ta her face.

 **GAVIN  
** Kat?

 **DEAN  
** Man, I hope you right bout all dis bullshit.

 **SAM  
** Yeah, me like a muthafucka.

They wait outside tha door up in tense silence. Da lock clicks n' tha door slowly opens. KAT is standin up in tha doorway. 

 **GAVIN  
** Oh, Kat.

SAM goes inside ta hit up tha room yo. Dude comes back out, bobbin his head at DEAN. 

 **KAT  
** One thirty-seven.

 **DEAN  
** Sorry?

 **KAT  
** It whispered up in mah ear. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. 137.

 **SAM n' DEAN  
** (in synch) Room number.

SAM n' DEAN crouch against tha wall where they can't be heard.

 **SAM  
** Alright. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So if these spirits aren't tryin ta hurt mah playas...

 **DEAN  
** Then what tha fuck is they tryin ta do?

 **SAM  
** Maybe thatz what tha fuck they've been tryin ta tell us...

 **DEAN  
** I guess we'll smoke up.

 **SAM  
** Alright.

 **DEAN  
** So, now, is you muthafuckas locked n loaded ta leave dis place?

 **KAT  
** Thatz a understatement.

 **DEAN  
** Okay. (to SAM) Yo ass git dem outta here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. I be goin ta go find room 137. 

.........................

_INTERIOR._

SAM leadz KAT n' GAVIN down a hallway.

 **KAT  
** So yo. How tha fuck do you muthafuckas know bout all dis pimp stuff?

 **SAM  
** It aint nuthin but kinda our thang.

 **KAT  
** Why would mah playas want a thang like that?

 **SAM  
** (huffs a laugh) I had a cold-ass lil crappy guidizzle counselor. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. 

 **KAT  
** And Dean, biatch? Dat punk yo' boss?

 **SAM  
** (lookin down at her) No.

..................

DEAN moves down a hallway n' shines his cold-ass torch on room 137 yo. Dude pushes against tha door, rockin his weight ta push aside tha fucked up furniture blockin dat shit. Da room be a mess, filin cabinets pushed over, papers everywhere, tha walls stained. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Dude shines tha torch around, flicks all up in some foldaz lyin up in a cold-ass lil cabinet, keeps looking. 

.....................

SAM marches down a hallway n' tries tha door yo, but itz locked. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Dude tries another one, also locked.

 **SAM  
** Alright. I be thinkin our crazy asses gotz a lil' small-ass problem. 

 **GAVIN  
** Then break it down.

 **SAM  
** I don't be thinkin thatz gunna work.

 **GAVIN  
** Then a window.

 **KAT  
** They're barred.

 **GAVIN  
** Then how tha fuck is we supposed ta git out?

 **SAM  
** Thatz tha point. We not. Therez suttin' up in here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. Well shiiiit, it don't want our asses ta muthafuckin bounce.

 **KAT  
** Those patients...

 **SAM  
** No. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Somethang else.

.....................

DEAN is still searchin tha room yo. Dude findz a loose panel n' pries it off. Behind it aint nuthin but a satchel full of papers. 

 **DEAN  
** This is why I git paid tha big-ass bucks. 

Inside be a journal wit nuff notes n' hand-drawn picturez of medicinal instruments, n' you can put dat on yo' toast. DEAN pulls up a cold-ass lil chair n' starts reading, lookin concerned. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

 **DEAN  
** Well all work n' no play make Dr. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Ellicott a  _very_  dull boy.

A noise make his ass look up doggystyle.  
  
..................

 **SAM  
** (movin back down a hallway toward KAT/GAVIN) Alright, I've looked everywhere, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. Therez no other way out.

 **GAVIN  
** So what tha fuck tha hell is we gunna do?

 **SAM  
** Well fo' starters, our asses aint gunna panic.

 **GAVIN  
** Why tha hell not playa!

SAMz beeper rings n' he lyrics.

 **SAM  
** Hey.

 **DEAN  
** (on a gangbangin' finger-lickin' dirty-ass shitty-ass line) Sam, itz mah dirty ass. I peep dat shit. It aint nuthin but comin all up in mah face. 

 **SAM  
** Where is yo slick ass?

 **DEAN  
** I be up in tha basement yo. Hurry up!

 **SAM  
** I be on mah way.

SAM hangs up n' looks at KAT/GAVIN.  
  
Alright, can either of y'all handle a gangbangin' finger-lickin' dirty-ass shotgun?

 **GAVIN  
** What, biatch? No!

 **KAT  
** I can.

Gavin looks at her up in amazement.

 **KAT  
** My fuckin daddy took me skeet blastin a cold-ass lil coupla times.

 **SAM  
** Alright, here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. It aint nuthin but loaded wit rock salt. Well shiiiit, it may not bust a cap up in a spirit yo, but it will repel dat shit. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So if you peep something, blast. 

 **KAT  
** Okay.

 **SAM  
** ’kay.

...........................

 **SAM  
** (searchin all up in hallways n' rooms) Dean!

His flashlight flickers n' fades yo. Dude shakes n' taps it fo' realz. A door behind his ass swings open. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch yo. Dude raises his blasted glock n' approaches carefully.

 **SAM  
** Dean?

A shadow moves behind a ragged curtain, drawin his thugged-out attention. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. When he pulls tha curtain back there be a no one there, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho yo. Dude turns....and a oldschool beaten up playa wit ragged afro n' threadz grabs his wild lil' grill yo. His handz start glowing. 

 **MAN  
** Don't be afraid. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I be goin ta make you all mo' betta n' shit. 


	5. ACT FOUR

_INTERIOR._

GAVIN paces, KAT crouches against tha wall holdin tha shotgun. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 

 **KAT  
** (sighing) Yo, Gavin?

 **GAVIN  
** (comin ta crouch beside her) Yeah?

 **KAT  
** If we make it outta here kickin it...we is so breakin up.

GAVIN stares at her n' shit. They hear a noise round tha corner n' both rise. 

 **KAT  
** (raisin tha shotgun) Did yo dirty ass hear that?

 **GAVIN  
** Somethingz coming.

DEAN comes round tha corner n' sees KAT just as she pulls tha trigger n' shiznit yo. Dude throws his dirty ass back round tha corner n' shit. 

DEAN (crouchin against tha wall) Damn it, damn it, don't blast son! It aint nuthin but me biaatch!

 **KAT  
** Sorry dawwwwg! Sorry. 

 **DEAN  
** Son of a ... (he comes round tha corner n' looks all up in tha marks left up in tha wall) What is you still bustin here!, biatch? Wherez Sam, biatch? 

 **GAVIN  
** Dude went ta tha basement. Yo ass called his muthafuckin ass.

 **DEAN  
** I didn't call anybody.

 **KAT  
** His cell beeper rang yo. Dude holla'd dat shiznit was you, biatch.

 **DEAN  
** Basement, huh?

DEAN (lookin round n' grabbin some extra weapons) Alright. Watch yourselves....and peep up fo' me biaatch!

.......................

 **DEAN  
** (lookin round up in tha basement) Sammy, biatch? Sam, you down here, biatch? Sam, biatch? Sam!

As tha pimpin' muthafucka turns, SAM is standin right up in front of his muthafuckin ass. DEAN jumps back, automatically raisin his shotgun. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 

 **DEAN  
** Man, answer me when I be callin you, nahmean biiiatch, biatch? Yo ass aiiiight, biatch? 

 **SAM  
** Yeah. I be fine.

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass know it wasn't me whoz ass called yo' cell, right?

 **SAM  
** Yeah, I know. I be thinkin suttin' lured mah crazy ass down here.

 **DEAN  
** I be thinkin I know who. Dr. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Ellicott. Thatz what tha fuck tha spirits done been tryin ta tell us. Yo ass aint peeped him, have yo slick ass?

 **SAM  
** No yo. How tha fuck do you know dat shiznit was him?

 **DEAN  
** ’Cause I found his fuckin log book fo' realz. Apparently da thug was fuckin wit on his thugged-out lil' patients, wack stuff. Makes lobotomies be lookin like a cold-ass lil coupla aspirin.

 **SAM  
** But dat shiznit was tha patients whoz ass rioted.

 **DEAN  
** Yeah. They was riotin against Dr. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Ellicott. Dr. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Feelphat was hustlin on some sort of, like, off tha hook rage therapy yo. Dude thought dat if his schmoooove ass could git his thugged-out lil' patients ta vent they anger then they would be cured of dat shit. Instead it only made dem worse n' worse n' angrier n' angrier n' shit. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So I be thinking, what tha fuck if his spirit is bustin tha same thang, biatch? To tha cop, biatch? To tha lil playas up in tha seventies, makin dem so mad salty they become homicidal.... Come on, we gotta find his bones n' torch ’em. 

 **SAM  
** How, biatch? Da five-o never found his body.

 **DEAN  
** Da log book holla'd dat schmoooove muthafucka had some sort of hidden procedure room down here somewhere where he'd work on his thugged-out lil' patients, n' you can put dat on yo' toast. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So, if I was a patient I'd drag his thugged-out ass down here, do a lil work on it mah dirty ass.

 **SAM  
** I don't give a fuck, it soundz kinda...

 **DEAN  
** Crazy?

 **SAM  
** Yeah.

 **DEAN  
** Yeah. Exactly.

DEAN opens another door, looks inside, then gestures wit his head fo' SAM ta follow. Close up of SAM givin DEAN a stealthy, sly look.

They both enta tha room.

 **SAM  
** I holla'd at you I looked everywhere, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. I didn't find a hidden room.

 **DEAN  
** Well, thatz why they call it hidden...(wind noise) Yo ass hear that?

 **SAM  
** What?

 **DEAN  
** (lookin around, crouchin n' holdin his hand out) Therez a thugged-out door here.

 **SAM  
** (pointin his wild lil' freakadelic glock at DEAN.) Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. (A trickle of blood runs from his nose) Step back from tha door. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. 

 **DEAN  
** (risin ta his wild lil' feet, his wild lil' fuckin eyes goin from tha glock ta SAMz face) Sam, put tha glock down.

 **SAM  
** Is dat a order?

 **DEAN  
** Nah, itz mo' of a gangbangin' thugged-out request.

 **SAM  
** (raisin his wild lil' freakadelic glock ta point at DEANz chest) ’Cause I be gettin pretty pissed wit takin yo' orders.

 **DEAN  
** I knew dat shit. Ellicott did suttin' ta you, biatch.

 **SAM  
** For once up in yo' game, just shut yo' grill.

 **DEAN  
** What is you gunna do, Sam, biatch? Gunz filled wit rock salt. It aint nuthin but not gunna bust a cap up in mah dirty ass. 

SAM blasts DEAN up in tha chest. Da blasted blasts his ass backwardz all up in tha hidden door ta fall on tha floor. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. 

 **SAM  
** No. But it will hurt like hell. 


	6. ACT FIVE

_INTERIOR. BASEMENT yo. HIDDEN ROOM._

DEAN lies on tha floor, comin ta n' gaspin fo' breath.

 **DEAN  
** Sam!

SAM standz over his muthafuckin ass.

 **DEAN  
** We gotta burn Ellicottz bones n' all dis is ghon be over, n' you gonna be back ta normal.

 **SAM  
** I be normal. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack. I be just spittin some lyrics ta tha real deal fo' tha last time. I mean, why is we even here, biatch? ’Cause you followin Dadz ordaz like a phat lil solider, biatch? Because you always do what tha fuck da perved-out muthafucka say without question, biatch? Is you dat desperate fo' his thugged-out approval?

 **DEAN  
** This aint you rappin', Sam.

 **SAM  
** Thatz tha difference between you n' mah dirty ass. I gots a mind of mah own. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. I aint pathetic, like you, biatch.

 **DEAN  
** So what tha fuck is you gunna do, huh, biatch? Is you gunna bust a cap up in me son?

 **SAM  
** Yo ass know what, I be sick of bustin what tha fuck you tell me ta do. We no closer ta findin Dad todizzle than we was six months ago.

 **DEAN  
** Well, then here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. Let me make it easier fo' you, biatch. (Dude holdz his [Smizzle & Wesson](http://www.supernaturalwiki.com/index.php?title=Weapons_Catalogue) toward SAM.) Come on. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Take dat shit. Real bullets is gonna work a hell of a shitload betta than rock salt. (SAM hesitates) Take dat shiznit son!! 

SAM points tha glock at DEANz face. 

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass don't give a fuck bout me dat much, biatch? Yo ass be thinkin you could bust a cap up in yo' own brother, biatch? Then go ahead. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Pull tha trigger n' shit. Do dat shiznit son!

SAM pulls tha trigger n' shit. Da chamber is empty yo. Dude tries again, n' once mo' n' mo' n' mo'. DEAN uses a right cross ta knock SAM ta tha ground n' strugglez ta git up. 

 **DEAN  
** (movin ta stand over SAM) Man, I aint goin ta hit you wit a loaded pistol!

SAM stares up at his muthafuckin ass. DEAN delivers a vicious right cross ta knock SAM out, almost fallin as da ruffneck do so. 

 **DEAN  
** (pattin his brother) Sorry, Sammy.

DEAN begins lookin round tha room, pushin back ragged curtains wit his thugged-out lil' pistol. DR. ELLICOTT glides past but DEAN don't notice yo. Dude sees a tuft of suttin' pokin outta tha corner of a cold-ass lil closed cupboard n' moves closer n' shiznit yo. Dude opens tha door ta find a mummified corpse n' flinches back from tha smell, gagging.

 **DEAN  
** Oh, thatz just gross.

 **DEAN  
** (saltin tha body) Soak it up.

DEAN drops tha salt container n' grabs a lil' small-ass tin of kerosene, squirtin tha body. In tha background his cold-ass torch flicker, unnoticed. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! A gurney comes flyin across tha room n' knocks his ass ta tha ground. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! DR. ELLICOTT grabs his wild lil' grill n' his handz light up.

 **ELLICOTT  
** Don't be afraid. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I be goin ta help you, biatch. I be goin ta make you all mo' betta n' shit. 

DEAN strugglez ta reach his bag wit one hand, findz his fuckin lighter, flicks it on n' tosses it all up in tha mummified body. DR. ELLICOTT lets go of DEAN as his bangin remains start ta burn, so check it before ya wreck it. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. DEAN crawls outta tha way n' watches as DR. ELLICOTT z pimp turns black n' falls ta tha ground, crumblin on impact. 

SAM wakes up n' DEAN looks over at his ass as he flexes his jaw painfully. 

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass aint goin ta try n' bust a cap up in me, is ya?

 **SAM  
** (raisin his hand ta push at his jaw) No. 

 **DEAN**  
Good. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I be fly as a gangbangin' falcon, soarin all up in tha sky dawwwwg! Because dat would be awkward. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka!   
  
...................

_EXTERIOR. DAYBREAK. OUTSIDE ASYLUM._

**KAT  
** Thanks, muthafuckas.

 **GAVIN  
** Yeah. Thanks.

 **DEAN  
** No mo' hustled asylums, aiiight?

They peep GAVIN n' KAT strutt toward they car, then turn ta tha Impala. 

 **SAM  
** Yo, Dean?

DEAN turns ta peep his muthafuckin ass.

 **SAM  
** I be sorry, man. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. I holla'd some wack thangs back there.

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass remember all that?

 **SAM  
** Yeah. It aint nuthin but like I couldn't control dat shit. But I didn't mean it, any of dat shit.

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass didn't, huh?

 **SAM  
** Fuck dat shit, of course not son! Do we need ta rap bout this?

 **DEAN  
** (movin ta git up in tha Impala) No. I aint straight-up up in tha pluggin n' carin kinda vibe. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I be fly as a gangbangin' falcon, soarin all up in tha sky dawwwwg! I just wanna git some chill. 


	7. EPILOUGE

_INTERIOR. MOTEL ROOM._

Camera pans over DEAN, asleep up in bed. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

A beeper rings.

 **SAM  
** Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 

DEAN don't move. Frowning, SAM grabs DEAN’s beeper from tha end table n' checks tha number, then flips it open.

 **SAM  
** Hello.

Dude listens, then sits straight up in bed. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

 **SAM  
** Dad?


End file.
